I Could Love You
by kittykatloren
Summary: From the moment that Thayet stepped into his sight that evening, Jon knew that something had changed. Jonathan/Thayet oneshot, written for Rosie for Goldenlake's Secret Admirer fic exchange!


**A/N:** Written for Rosie over at Goldenlake for the Secret Admirer fic exchange! The idea came from something I read on TP's Sheroes, that on their wedding night, Jon and Thayet weren't necessarily in love yet, though they did deeply appreciate each other... There were lots of little details in what I read that fed into this story. At this point they're still working things out, if not politically, but romantically.

**Words: **1171  
><strong>Characters:<strong> Jon, Thayet  
><strong>Time: <strong>Whenever it is that they get married because I forgot exactly when...  
><strong>Genre:<strong> Romance

**Disclaimer: **Everything you recognize belongs to Tamora Pierce, not me.

* * *

><p>From the moment that Thayet stepped into his sight that evening, Jon knew that something had changed.<p>

It wasn't her beauty in the regal white gown. Or her grace, her elegance, the ease with which she walked toward him and smiled. No, in all that she remained ever herself, ever strong, ever composed.

Now, however, she was his queen. And even if he had tried, at that moment he could not have imagined any other woman walking toward him, speaking the vows that would bind them together for life. Her eyes gleamed with a quiet knowledge. This was the answer, for both of them. The perfect solution to the problems associated with their respective stations in life. And by some divine providence, there was more emotion between them than an ordinary pair of royals. Much more. Jon couldn't quite define it yet, but it was undoubtedly there.

After they were wed, they danced. With a courtship as brief as theirs had been, they had had only a few opportunities to dance before. They moved well together, having both been taught such formalities from the cradle. It was easy, and comfortable, and enjoyable beyond measure. He made sure to dance with her more often than perhaps was traditional; he told himself that it was to make her feel more at ease, as they would soon be sharing much more than just the touch of hands, but in truth, he just _wanted_ to.

"The noble ladies will feel you have slighted their daughters," Thayet said, when he took her hand for the fourth time.

"Let them," said Jon with a smile, making her laugh as they began to twirl around the room.

Night overtook the evening with unusual haste. Alone as he waited for her, he was no longer easy and comfortable. He felt like a boy again, dressed in nothing but long white shift, pacing around his grand room, sure that his palms were sweaty and his face bright red. He felt nothing like a king. _It's not like I haven't done this before,_ he told himself scathingly, but it did nothing to soothe his nerves.

The double doors to his chambers – _their_ chambers - opened. Thayet, his new queen, entered, escorted by Buri, who bowed and exited. Jon noted the K'mir's sharp eyes never leaving him till there was a soft _thud_ of closing doors, and he and his queen were alone.

Thayet was radiant in a sheer silk nightgown, almost – but not quite – translucent in the dim candelight. Shadows hugged her face and her curves. Her eyes were on the floor – Thayet, so strong and direct, was nervous too, Jon realized. Perhaps even more nervous than he was, though she would never admit it.

"Y-you're - " He stopped; his voice was coming out scratchy. He swallowed and rubbed the back of his neck. "You're beautiful, Thayet."

His loss of composure seemed to amuse her; she hid a smile with her hand. Jon relaxed a bit as he approached her. Still she didn't look up, so he touched her chin, drew her face towards his. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of her. Long hair tumbled over pale skin and sweeping cheekbones and red lips. Dark eyes showed a flash of hesitancy now, for the first time since he had met her. Quickly he smiled to reassure her.

"I am in awe of you, my dear," he said lightly. "I was in awe all day. You must have been the calmest, most sympathetic bride in the history of Tortall. I don't know how you managed not to scream with everyone going mad all around you."

She laughed. With a careful hand she touched his cheek. "I was calm because I was happy," she said, and her voice was steady and her eyes clear. "From now on, we will share our lives. I admire you, I respect you, and… I rather like you, Jonathan. So, I am happy."

It was the first time she had called him by his name, without rank or title. _I could love this woman, _Jon realized suddenly. _Truly love her, in time._

"You are a goddess," he breathed as he found her soft lips. His desire burned in him like a wildfire when he tasted her, but he held her loosely, reluctant to rush her. It was Thayet who nudged him first toward their shared bed, her eyes gleaming and her usually porcelain cheeks flushed.

Gentle kisses, on her lips, on her cheeks, on her neck. She kissed him, too, and fingered the bottom of his thin shirt. Jon tugged it off to find her hands on his chest, exploring his muscles and scars. He touched her sleeve, brushed it away from her shoulder, and helped her to slide out of her gown.

She wore nothing else, not even a necklace. Jon touched her chest where a familiar charm might have lain. She was ever the queen. As she met his eyes, her warm fingers touched his, and she nodded. Slowly she moved his hand down, tracing over soft skin.

Her body was flawless. No, not flawless; he noticed that she, too, bore scars. But she was perfect to him. He counted those scars with his lips. He reached seven before he was distracted. Small but supple breasts that he kissed, the flare of her hip, the pale stretch of her leg... He couldn't help but run his hands across her skin, feeling her shiver, feeling her eyes on him too. He was ready for her. She pulled him closer, closer, so close that he could feel her hot breath… but Jon, exerting all his willpower, hesitated. Perhaps they didn't really have a choice regardless, but he wanted her to be sure, to regret nothing…

"It might hurt you."

"But it will be a good kind of hurt," she murmured, and then he heard her gasp.

He was gentle, as gentle as he could be, and he watched her face and held her hand. It was her opening those piercing eyes and clenching her fingers around his that finally finished him. At last he lowered himself to rest beside her, still holding her hand, which he brought to his lips and kept there for quite some time. Then reached across her to cover their bodies with a soft blanket. Thayet turned to face him, and her smile was honest and grateful.

_This will be different than anything I have ever known,_ Jon thought wonderingly. _This could last. _Her beauty soothed him as he drifted off to sleep, still with his hand around hers.

Thayet studied his sleeping profile. _He was so kind. Not many would have been that way. I… am luckier than I could have ever wished._ It was peaceful, looking at him. Restful. He was handsome, wonderfully handsome, but her heart didn't flutter weakly at the sight of him. It warmed.

"I could love you someday, Jon of Conté," she murmured, and closed her eyes, waiting patiently for sleep to come.


End file.
